


Showdown at Tintagel

by Grey_Bard



Category: Captain Britain and MI 13, Marvel, Nomad - Girl Without A World
Genre: Comics, Dark Agenda Challenge, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 22:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grey_Bard/pseuds/Grey_Bard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faiza Hussain and Rikki Barnes vs. Morgan Le Fay. News at 11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Showdown at Tintagel

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta-reader Seanchai on this one. And yes, I am not exaggerating, Marvel Morgan is really that over the top.

Listen: Faiza Hussain is following the witch. She is following her across the fields of Britain, she is following her across the Irish Sea. She is following her over the very Atlantic, for Excalibur's justice will not be denied.

Listen: Faiza Hussain is no one's fool, and the sword Excalibur knows well its prey.

It was a routine meeting for MI 13, Britain's secret supernatural special forces. Lady Jac was explaining, once again, why she didn't think vampires needed a routine physical. "I don't mean to say that the principle isn't good," she said, and gestured cavalierly with her full cup of tea, which sloshed alarmingly, "But since I haven't noticed much change since the Blitz, wouldn't it be wasting Faiza's time? It's not like I'm going to go mad at a moment's notice."

Black Knight grimaced into the cup of coffee he was nursing, and wrapped both hands around the sides to absorb the heat. The less said about the Ebony Blade, the better.

Blade gave her a look, and she shot a long-suffering glance at the ceiling. "No offense, of course, Dane."

Pete Wisdom sat back in his chair, legs crossed, twitching his hands restlessly. "Would it be the worst thing in the world to have a doctor – with bonafide, genuine healing powers, no less – take a quick, classified look at you? Might help, next time a shapeshifter gets cheeky."

Faiza shrugged. "If you don't want a physical, don't have one. I keep in practice enough, with all the ways we keep almost dying."

Captain Britain leaned forward across the conference table. "I admit, I'd be interested to see what you think after..." After, of course, Merlin had brought him back from the dead, he meant.

His wife Meggan shook her head. "Some things it's better not to know about yourself, Brian," she said.

And then suddenly, they all fell asleep. Mid-sentence, mid-drink and mid-flail. At which point a tall purple-haired woman wearing a maniacal expression appeared in the room. Literally appeared, winking into existence out of nothing.

"It is I, Morgan Le Fay, who have defeated you! Poor mortal fools. Defenders of Britain? Hah, you could not stand against me, or the simplest of my magics!" she declaimed, to a room apparently too asleep to hear her. "I will have the Amulet of Right and the Star Sceptre, and you shall sleep all unknowing, until my great work is past! Awaken to my new world and despair."

And with that, she set about stripping Captain Britain of his costume. Not as unreasonable an action as it might seem, since his costume was the Amulet of Right and the Star Sceptre, two magical artifacts transmuted into an invincible garment by Merlin himself. The garment was invincible, not the man himself, however, so Brian Braddock peacefully slept on as he was peeled out of it by the sorceress.

Costume in tow, Morgan winked back out of existence, leaving the sleepers behind her.

She hadn't been entirely unobserved, however. Faiza Hussain, bearer of the sword Excalibur, had fought sleep valiantly with the sword's magical aid. Unable to move or speak, Faiza had heard the entire thing. Now, with Morgan no longer present, with a might gush of will and magic, she thrust herself fully awake, and turned to the aid of her companions.

"Dane? Dane?" Faiza slapped the Black Knight's face lightly, turning it toward her, then checking his pulse. Strong and steady, but as slow as that of any sleeper. She checked his eyes – no sign of concussion, but no sign of waking up, either. Her healing powers did precisely nothing. He was healthy, strong and fast asleep. What was there to fix? Cursed magic! It never behaved sensibly. Her beloved unwakeable, she checked the others. Nothing. Not even Blade or Lady Jac, despite being vampires, had been immune to the spell.

Excalibur tugged at her. Yes. Morgan. This way. Follow, follow now.

She switched her communicator on. "Base, this is Dr. Hussain. There's been, well. Call it a situation, I s'pose..."

And off she went, putting on her armor, grabbing supplies and gear, and taking the Black Knight's flying horse. Well, she couldn't fly the jet, and Dane couldn't ride even a magical horse in his sleep, now could he?

Now: Nomad is a little known hero, but brave. Power she lacks, yes, but not mettle.

Now: Nomad has been confronted by wickedness, brazenly flaunted before her eyes, and so she will not fail to hunt it.

On the other side of the Atlantic, hordes of suburban children and vaguely intellectual adults shuffled through a long gallery to the drone of a hundred pre-recorded autoguides, each at a different place.

"... the workmanship on this axehead clearly indicates..."

"Note the striations on the underside of the ..."

"In this special exhibition, on loan from the British Museum..."

"... was part of a famous hoard found in a farmer's field in"

In front of a small collection of weirdly-shaped Bronze Age animal pins stood Rikki Barnes, Nomad, on her day off from saving the world. Well, New York. Possibly the outer boroughs.

She was just taking a closer look at a funny little metal cow / goat thing, when a glowing, floating woman with odd magenta and black hair popped into existence in front of a bronze cauldron a couple of yards away.

"Flee, mortal fools! Be glad I do not bind you to my service!" the woman declaimed, throwing a bolt of purple lightning at the feet of the gaping crowd.

The situation was clear to anyone who had lived in New York for very long. One villain, clearly labeled for your convenience. The tourists turned as one and fled, parents snatching up children, children dragging elderly relatives, security guards not bothering to even try getting off a shot. Rikki fled convincingly too, but only as far as the next gallery. She pressed her ear to the wall and yes! She was right! The woman was a classic monologuer.

"Run, mongrel scum! The kingdom I raise will lack room for such as you, save as my slaves. Fools, you moved the cauldron of the Dagda from the iron wards of the British Museum, and you thought I would not notice? You thought I would not find it? Ah, I shall tap its power and set it to a use far less insipid than a mere endless feast!"

Rikki was halfway changed into her costume when the woman popped out of existence, taking the cauldron with her. She had just finished shrugging into the blue shirt, and was adjusting the throwing disks when the first guard crept back in.

No dead visitors, no smashed ceilings, no windows broken... With only one item gone and the rest slightly windblown, it wasn't bad for a supervillain eruption. Once they checked it for booby traps, it would be business as usual in another hour or two. Not bad.

Rikki hardly agreed. "So you just waltz in here in broad daylight, toss some lighting, take what you want and poof?" she muttered. "Who do you think you are, Doctor Doom?" And she went off to inspect the wreckage and question the guards. "Hi there, citizen, got a moment?"

Listen: Two hunters are better than one.

It takes a while to park a flying horse, especially in Manhattan. By the time Faiza got off of the roof, into the museum and rushed into the Bronze Age special exhibit, Morgan was long gone. In her place were several shell-shocked security guards, a bored-looking police officer and a girl in some sort of plain blue uniform with gold disks at the shoulders.

Faiza cleared her throat. The policeman continued consulting with the guards, and the girl didn't look up from her inspection of an empty exhibit case.

"'Scuse me," she asked, "This may sound a bit odd, but has an evil sorceress just passed by? About so high, purple hair, raving mad?"

The girl looked up and smiled. "So you have something against her too? Great! Are you Lancelot? The reincarnation of Galahad? What?" she asked, gesturing at Faiza's armor, headdress and surcoat.

Faiza blinked, taken aback for a moment and spread her hands in apology. "No... Just Faiza Hussain. Sometimes they call me Excalibur on account of the sword, that always feels a bit odd, though." She held out her official MI13 ID.

The girl wrinkled her nose sheepishly and shrugged. "I guess you can call me Rikki, then, Faiza. I'm Nomad, I work with Captain America sometimes. So here's what happened, everyone's minding their own business when some crazy sorceress pops in and steals a metal pot on loan from the British Museum. She said something about grabbing it when she was making her 'Mortal fools!' speech."

Faiza nodded. Probably the same person, then. "She knocked the rest of my team right out, nicked some magical artifacts, then announced her plans to an audience of none... or well, that's what she thought. The sword saved me, the rest of them are still out and in the loving arms of the NHS."

Rikki walked over to the empty case, tilting her head for Faiza to join her. "This is it."

Faiza drew Excalibur – and found herself on the wrong end of five different guns. She put her sword and her free hand up. "Ah, no harm meant? It isn't just for stabbing things, and I'm setting it free to sniff, sort of." She gently held it flat across her hands in front of the display case and closed her eyes. Power, power, old rich power.

"The sign calls it the Battersea Cauldron, but she said something about the Cauldron of the Dagda?" Nomad piped in, "And also something about tapping its power." Faiza's eyes popped open.

"That sounds... Kind of nasty, actually," she said, shifting Excalibur back into a more natural grip. Morgan, Morgan, follow, danger, follow now. "How dedicated are you to following this through?"

"Let's see," said Rikki, perched awkwardly on top an informational sign. "An unknown but apparently powerful villain comes into my turf, scares the tourists and makes it harder for us to get the really _cool_ traveling exhibits. Sure, I'm dedicated."

"I'm not quite sure how to ask this," said Faiza, sheathing the sword and fidgeting with her scabbard, "But how do you feel about flying horses?"

 

TO BE CONTINUED - Part 2 to come with the reveal!


End file.
